


you crazy assed cosmonaut

by Shining_Hikikomori



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Suicide Attempt, TW:, To Each His Own (2017) Au, its been like a year, this thing has been sitting in my docs and its getting yeeted out now, uh just generally depressing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:28:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27264997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shining_Hikikomori/pseuds/Shining_Hikikomori
Summary: life for a salaryman isn't beautiful, no it was far from it. beauty was somwthing Felix longed for but that well... that didn't matter now did it? an escape is all he wants, and perhaps he has found one but then... then he is not certain how much truth is in their story.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	you crazy assed cosmonaut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for suicide attempt. also this has been sitting in my drafts for so long so i have no idea the quality

Pale stars blink in and out of sight, the wavering night air making them clear and bright above. They blink as if to say that they know something that no one else does. He wonders if his parents are walking among the stars. 

“When I die, will I become that star?”

“Yes, but only if you want to. But just remember, before you become a star, you need to live your own life. Your family’s waiting, so there’s no need to hurry.”

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

Felix was no longer certain if he hated the sun or not. As the offending subject had filled the room, he realised that he hadn’t properly been in the sun for a few years. He wondered if he cared enough about that, but even the thought itself seemed to be too laborious to care about. His skin was now pale and waxy from lack of sunlight, face sunken from lack of proper food. There was a time that he would have wanted to look like this, but it was only now that he realised that his previous notions of beauty were synonymous with sickness. He truly looked like a corpse that had come back from the dead. Sitting up and staring at the wall in front of him, he wondered what he did to end up like this. In the end, it was all his fault, now wasn’t it. He guessed he deserved it all in the end, but the 

The smell of rotting food was far too powerful to ignore at this point. His rarely used room was filled with the stench of uneaten food, and with it, so too was the regret of not eating it. Sometimes Felix wondered if he should have eaten it, but it was too late to think of that at this point. The food was far past it’s expiration date, and he dimly wondered if he should take it out. As he rose from his spot on the bed, his movements were becoming increasingly slow, as if the weight of the world was bearing down on his shoulders. Some random song was playing on the television, and snippets of it could be heard over the sounds of rustling clothes as he finally got up and started his dressing. There was a point in his life that he wanted to be on that screen, singing and dancing for the world. But as time had passed, his dreams had slowly disintegrated until there was nothing left but sorrow and regret in its place. If he had followed that path, would things have been different? He wasn’t quite sure what the answer would have been, and he wasn’t quite certain if he had wanted to know.

“Time is so damn slow, I’m just growing old, I live like I’m dead” the television spoke.

“Finally, someone who gets me,” Felix murmured as he tied his tie, wearing the same outfit that he had quickly learned to hate after he had gotten the job. The same monotonous day that only became more of a routine day after day, a cycle that would only repeat itself until he died. It was a pity, really. There was once a time he had wanted to do so much with his life. He wondered what had happened to the person he once was.

As he moved forward in his life, he wondered if he knew from the start that he was going to end up like this. This job, it was the only one he was offered. The life he had wished to live was far out of reach now, as the work he put into this job was everything. The all encompassing fear that he was going to be fired and out on the streets once more was truly terrifying, as he had learned from his experience.

“Hey taxi taxi, take me away, because this place is too hard to be in, so I can at least breathe free for a few days,” Felix heard the lines clears once more and sighed.

“No one is going to save you,” he said flatly, switching the television off. Only no one could truly save him, and he wasn’t quite sure if he cared enough to actually be sad because of it. 

With all these hardships piled up against him, he hadn’t been free for a long time, and with that, his relationship with his parents had dimmed to a barely glowing ember. He had spoken to them recently, but had only lashed out at them. He wanted them to hate him for it, and yet they didn’t. He had always wondered why. Maybe he would visit them soon, and bring his mother the cakes she wanted from Tokyo. He quickly shook his head to dispel those thoughts though, as he knew that day dreaming of such things would only give him false hope for the future. It was sad really, and yet he had come to understand his fate.

He stepped onto the metro that weaved around the city, barely moving as it jolted from time to time. His eyes looked dead, and the dim lighting only emphasised his sunken cheeks and blank face. He briefly wondered if he cared enough about his appearance to be worried about, but then again, did he really care?

It’s hard, you know, to do something you hate everyday for the rest of your life. As he looked blankly at his desktop monitor, he wondered if everything was really worth it. When did things get like this? There was a time that Felix believed that he could get out of this in a few months, and just… just live. Now however, he wasn’t quite sure if he could ever escape this cycle of work, sleep, and then more work. It was only the realisation that he was going to die doing this one day that really scared him. Not that the job itself was dangerous, not really, because how dangerous can a job in a printing company be? No, the thing that was dangerous was how much he was working and what that did to his head. 

“I’m going to die here,” Felix murmured. If he was to be honest, the thought comforted him, like a guarantee that he would not be stuck there for the rest of eternity. That thought too scared him, but maybe not as much as it should. He sighed, what a sad existence. 

Like everyday that had come and gone before, his boss arrived and barked out orders for everyone to do morning stretches. And like everyday before, they all did them mechanically, without any real energy or thought behind them. 

“Lee Felix!” his boss screamed out once more, and Felix knew he was done for. “Come here. I said come here!” The man before him screeched out after Felix showed a moment of hesitation. If this was the first time this had happened, maybe it would have been better. But no, he was two minutes late to work again. Maybe his boss would be nice to him this once, but as soon as he looked up he knew that wouldn’t be the case at all. Oh, what had he done in a past life to deserve this? His boss, red in the face and shaking with anger was not going to go easy on him, not now and probably not ever.

“What do you have to say for yourself?” His boss spit out, bits of saliva coming out at the same time. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, cowering slightly in submission.

“What did you just say? Be louder,” his boss said once more, kicking at Felix’s knees, making him jump back, falling to the ground as he did so. He fell to the ground, humiliation coursing through him as his hands braced out to stop his face from slamming into the ground as well. He shakily looked up at his boss, briefly making eye contact with the shining star of their company, Minho, who could only look away.

“I’m sorry,” he said louder this time, trying to make his voice as even as he could so as not to betray his fear. What came next, he knew would hurt for days on end. He was going to have to work late as well again. The thought of being alone in the dark made him shiver, but was quickly pulled out of his thoughts by his boss pulling him up slightly by his scruff before dropping him back down and hitting his hand against the desk. He should be scared, and he was, but he couldn’t bring himself to truly feel anything. 

“I gave you a job, the only person after you had been rejected by everyone else!” That one stung Felix a bit more than he would like it too. “And this is how you repay me! Laziness! Tardiness! Sloppiness!” Each word punctuated with a harsh slap against the desk. He deserved this. If he wasn’t so lazy, then maybe things would be better. Nothing would change though, only cycling back to the way things were before. How awful Felix was at everything, and how much he hated himself for that. He was dropped, and the screaming continued, never ceasing, not even for a second. For a brief moment, it felt like he was watching himself from someone else’s eyes, that he was watching a person who was not himself. His mind briefly wandered to the terrible state of his apartment, although it wasn’t like he could pay to get that fix, though, not with the amount he was being paid. No, he would just suffer. Was it really worth it? Was this all really worth it? No, not anymore it wasn’t. It hadn’t really been for a very long time.

Pain and work and time had all melted together. It was too late now, and as the seconds lead to minutes, and those minutes to hours, he worked while the sun set, leaving him bathed in darkness. His coworkers were long gone by now, and it was late. He wasn’t quite sure what time it was, and the clocks were never really right. It didn’t matter now, though, now did it. The timer he used went off, and he packed his things to leave. Felix wondered when the last time he slept properly and couldn’t remember. He would like to be more surprised than he was over that matter. Maybe, maybe he could sleep for a very long time.

If he was to be honest, Felix wasn’t quite sure what he was doing anymore. Maybe at one point he knew, but now… now everything so different, so foreign. It felt like being forced to live in a different world that was filled with angry, hissing creatures that only saw him as a tool to be used, one cheap and easy to replace if it stopped working. God, all he wanted was for everything to go away, was that too much to ask for? Who would be left to care for him? Certainly not his parents, who he had ignored for weeks on end. Maybe it was months now, he wasn’t quite sure. The days blended together, it seemed, until there was no telling them apart, only a continuous cycle of pain. Certainly his coworkers wouldn’t care if he was gone, they were going through the same things, and would not care if he were to just disappear. 

There are days that Felix no longer wants to be himself. Days when he can hardly bear to look at himself in the mirror, days where his skin feels so tight over him that he wants to burst. But what could he do about that? After all, pain is just pain, but even so, it seems that pain is the only sensation he has been able to feel lately. He wonders if he could ever be free for this pain, but deep inside he knows that he never will be. Felix sometimes wonders if he cares. 

Words that are flat and dull fall from his lips as he talks, lies that seem almost sticky in his mouth and throat as he lies that everything is okay and that, yes, he is happier, that yes, he’s never been better. He feels almost guilty saying these things, that is until he sees people blindly taking these lies from him. He guesses that people only see what they want to. Felix doesn’t care as much as he or as much as he once would have. It’s almost as if he is watching himself from somewhere else, in a place that is neither here nor there. Should he care? The notion itself is too taxing to consider.

It was late now, and he was tired. Felix had worked too hard for too long, and he was tired. Tired of things such as this that made him only suffer more. He had worked 150 hours of overtime in the past three months without extra pay, and he was tired. But as is, the report was done and he could leave. His movements to pack up were slow, and he looked around the office as if he were memorising it, although it seemed a bit odd to do so, as he spent the greater amount of his time inside of the awful building. The melancholy was so great, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could fight it off. With a sense of finality, he packed his things into a briefcase. Was this the end for him? He didn’t quite know, but he didn’t care too much either way.

He moved towards the door as if he were dead. His movements were sluggish and slow, and he could barely keep his eyes open. Was Felix a dead man walking? Maybe, maybe not. At this point he wasn’t quite sure himself. If only he wasn’t so tired, if only he knew what he was doing with his life, if only, if only, if only. But none of what he wished was real, and they probably never would be. If he lasted longer than tonight, maybe he would care. Maybe, but he didn’t, not really.

Not really. He used those two words far too much. Things like that mattered little to him, and yet sometimes they annoyed him far more than they should. He never really understood why, so he just gave up trying. Why waste energy on something that would bring nothing to him. He just wanted to sleep now, maybe forever. 

He wandered back to the train station, the same as always, the same despondency that had plagued him had finally gotten the better of him, no matter how hard he fought it. He wondered why he had cared so much in the first place, it was so much easier not too.

Felix’s usual brisk pace had slowed to an amble, and each of his limbs seemed to tie him down to the earth

The machine-like actions he made had years of repetitions tucked inside of them. One, two three: swip, push, step. Four, five, six: step, step, step. He was getting closer to the train, the same one he had always taken on these dreaded late nights. Walking up to the platform, his shoulders drooped and eyes closed more and more with each step. Felix was so, so tired now. Maybe he could sleep, even if just for a little bit. Maybe he could sleep.

It felt like he was falling. Was he fainting again? Felix wasn’t quite sure. He heard the train coming, and he could feel himself fall forward into its path, and yet… yet… he couldn’t bring himself to care. Who would care? Once again, the answer was no one. So be it if he died, maybe that would be a good thing.

The embrace of nothingness is almost upon him, yet it’s not. Why is he still here? To be able to fade from existence, that is what he wants, and yet it’s not here. For a moment, he wonders if he is seeing this through someone else’s eyes, but no, he’s not. It’s been a few seconds. His eyes blink open, the dim lights of the metro station flows into his eyes, hazy and artificial. Yet they are blocked by something, or rather someone, although just who the person is remains to be discovered. Why wasn’t he falling? Why was he still alive? And why was he on the train station’s floor? All he knew was that he could see the train rush by and that his head was held against someone’s chest. Which begged the question, whose chest was it?

“Careful there, you almost fell,” the person speaks as if Felix didn’t already know that, as if it were just an accident. As if it was just his physical exhaustion that had carried him to his near death. 

Perhaps he should just let go but that smile just… disarms him and maybe he should just follow the helping hand, but then, then he doesn’t mind. What’s the difference between life and death anyways? He’ll do it another day perhaps.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr @etherealjjong and on twitter @lovexiaodol


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